


Surana's Bizar Adventure

by Wild_Hunter99



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Humor, Multiple Wardens (Dragon Age), Parody, WTF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26936968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wild_Hunter99/pseuds/Wild_Hunter99
Summary: Duncan returns to Ferelden, after a mission in Orlais, only to find signs of an incoming chaos on the horizon: A new Blight! He sets out on a journey to investigate this matter, warn the king and recruit new candidates for the Grey Wardens. Little did he know that his scouting for talents would reveal to be so fruitful... However, is the Archdemon still the worst thing to threaten the nation when the people tasked to save it are three humans, three elves and two dwarves who all hail from different backgrounds and clash on matters as simple as establishing their camp?This story is a parody of Dragon Age Origins, and though it features multiple Wardens, Surana can be considered the main character.
Kudos: 2





	1. Introduce Yourselves

**Author's Note:**

> This is a non-profit fan-based parody, Dragon Age is owned by Bioware and EA.
> 
> Welcome, dear readers, to this parody of Dragon Age! Though it is a parody, I will still try my best to give you an interesting story to follow. The humor may not always hit home, but I at least hope you'll enjoy your read! At the beginning, we will take a look at every origin story, then we'll move to the main plot. All of that may take a few chapters... or not! I'm open to suggestion as I go, so please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments.
> 
> I also post this work on FFN, but as I receive feedback from you, I may alter a few things in the future chapters, maybe making this version something exclusive.
> 
> Without further ado, let's begin the story!

Every great story involving great heroes needs a setting where it can take place, in a vast world on the verge of chaos, in times of… well, chaos. Alright, for the time, our story takes place during year 9:30, the thirtieth year of the age of the Dragon, the ninth era the world has known.

As for the world, it was a vast one that notably had the continent of Thedas, where our story will take place: a land that lived through many events that shaped and shook its nations.

Among those nations, there was the Tevinter Imperium, Thedas' oldest human nation that is home to the richest and most powerful mages to ever exist, where slavery was a common thing, mostly practiced on elves. All kind of magic was practiced there, openly or not: a good spot to start a story, right?

…

No, our story will not take place there.

Then, there also was Orlais, the nation that saw the birth of the Chantry and the prophetess Andraste. Its capital was Val Royaux, and it was known for the many balls and ceremonies the aristocracy would throw left and right almost every day of the year, that were know for an extravagance only rivaled by that of the nobles' outfits. Lives of the wealthy and famous, spy networks, assassinations, and treacheries… all social classes craved such stories.

…

Before you ask; no, our story is not going to take place in Orlais.

To the east of Thedas, there was Antiva. This nation was well-known for its corrupted politicians, its strong liquor and its brotherhood of assassins known as the 'Crows': blades for hiring that only swear loyalty to the money they're paid for their skills, and who should never be messed with, whether one is against or with them.

…

No, no and no! Our story isn't taking place in Antiva, either!

There was also Ferelden. This land was known for… er… being invaded by Orlais, some time ago... and also for its ambient scent of 'wet dog'…

Yes, this is where our story begins. We're so lucky…

**~Ferelden's Circle of Magi – The apprentices' library~**

The Chantry, the religion most humans of Thedas followed, said that it was the hubris of men which brought the darkspawn into our world.

The Tevinter mages sought to usurp the Maker's throne in the Fade, but instead destroyed it. They were cast out from Heaven, twisted and cursed by their own corruption. They returned as monsters: the first of the darkspawns, and became a blight upon the lands, relentless and unstoppable.

Though we will come back to the history of the darkspawn and their rampages on the world, our focus now is on the mages, in a general way.

The historical event told earlier led to the Chantry taking their disposition towards mages and anyone born with that 'burden'. And so, the only legal way for a mage to practice his magic, or even to exist, was to be locked within a 'circle', a closed place where he will be locked for his whole life, under the ever vigilant eyes of the priests and templars that follow them everywhere they go (even to their baths, from certain rumors).

Any mage not in one of those circles is, aside from rare exceptions, labeled an apostate: an illegal mage that is constantly hunted down by the templars who can either take them to the circle, or kill them on sight if judged too dangerous.

Ferelden, just like all the major nations of Thedas, is home to such a place of quarantine for mages, in the middle of Lake Calenhad, where a high tower stands.

Inside the tower, a very unique scene was taking place, in the library of the apprentices, on the first floor. The young apprentices and the templars had gathered in the middle of the reading room, looking at the ceiling, either bewildered or amused for some. But, what was so funny about the ceiling, anyways?

"What is this gathering for?!" Yelled a voice from behind that caused the witnesses to shake (or even pee in their pants, for some). Heavy footsteps covered by an equally heavy armor were heard in the whole room.

Everyone turned around to see, arriving from the upper floor, an old man with grayish hair and a heavy templar's armor, hinting his rank. He had a very annoyed look about him, as he approached the assembly: it was the Knight-Commander Greagoir.

"Explain yourselves!" He ordered, clearly annoyed by the silence he was greeted by until now.

As an answer, everyone raised their heads, followed by Greagoir himself. A rather nice chandelier was hanged there, but it wasn't the reason everyone was looking up: hanging from it, by the side of his apprentice's robes, an elf was waving, with his head upside down.

"Maker, it could ONLY be him…" Mumbled the Knight-Commander, before unleashing the full power of his vocal chords.

"SURANAAAAAA!"

The elf with silver ponytailed hair, known as Surana, just stared at him and greeted.

"Good morning, Greagoir Commander!" This reply could've made the other apprentices laugh, but given the circumstances, and the aura the templar was giving off, they instead held their breath.

"It isn't a 'good' morning, idiot! What have you gotten yourself into, again?!"

"Actually, I was trying a teleporting spell, but I—"

"A what?! Spare me your nonsense and get down here, NOW!"

"I can't. I'm stuck."

Greagoir cursed in his beard before calling one of his men.

"Cullen! Go get a ladder! I'm sure you don't want your 'friend' to injure himself." While saying this last bit, the Knight-Commander threw an accusing glare at the young templar, who simply ran for the stairs leading to the second floor, where the storage was located.

"As for you, Surana," The senior templar pointed his finger at the mage "your First Enchanter will be informed of your bullshit."

At the mention of the First Enchanter, who was a figure of authority to the mages of the circle and usually someone kind who always supported his students, Surana's face harbored an expression of terror.

"Oh no, mister Greagor! Anything but that! Don't tell him!" He protested.

"Stop moving, you monkey! At this rate, you'll—"

The elf's robes, by Maker knows what twist, was finally free from the chandelier, and Surana started a spectacular fall to the ground. At the same time, everyone made a step back, leaving a circling area between them, where…

***BOOM***

…

"I brought the ladder, Knight-Commander." Cullen came back, dragging a long wooden ladder.

"Forget about the ladder, Cullen. He doesn't need it anymore." Greagor was staring at a human-shaped hole on the ground "Instead, go bring a rope… and the First Enchanter."

**~Circle of Magi – First Enchanter's Office~**

"Here is my work of research on the common Entropy spells and their effects, First Enchanter." A young woman with shoulder-length dark hair, wearing the circle's robes, handed no less than five scrolls to an old man with a long gray beard and wearing the green robes of the circle's First Enchanter.

"Nice work, child! It has only been two weeks since your Harrowing, and you are already contributing to the circle's library with your researches. It will only be a matter of a few years before I suggest you for Senior Enchanter."

The First Enchanter was Irving. He was respected and appreciated by his pupils and the templars of the circle. He had a way to be informed of everything that happened within the walls of the tower and masterfully wielded the words to ease any tension that may spark between the mages and the templars. However, that didn't stop his colleague, Greagoir, from criticizing him from time to time…

…

At least, that's how the official story portrays the leader of the cirlce's mages. But, you'll come to realize that the truth may diverge from the official stories…

The young woman, who was known as Solonoa Amell, had shown affinity with magic even before she knew how to speak. The family name, Amell, was mostly known in the city-state of Kirkwall, in the Free Marches, as a noble family.

Solonoa, who was born in Ferelden, had little to do with her aristocratic cousins, who tried to eliminate anything related to magic in their bloodline through arranged marriages. One of her grandparents must've fled this tyranny of denial to live in Ferelden.

This theory is supported by the fact that a similar event happened in the previous generation of the noble Amell family, where one of their daughters had met an apostate mage by the name of Hawke, and fell in love with him. Faced with the traditional denial for a say in the matter, and with an arranged marriage on the horizon to get her away from that 'filthy' apostate, she decided to make the jump: she escaped Kirkwall with her beloved, to Ferelden.

They decided to live in a small village, Lothering, somewhere to the south of the country, for she had some family living there, too. You guessed it, it was Solonoa's family.

Solonoa lived her early life with her family and her cousins, who were about the same age as her, though she doesn't have many memories of that time.

One day, she accidently cast a random spell outside her house, a templar was passing by and she ended up in the tower, her family unable to prevent it.

***knock**knock***

Knocking was heard on the office's door.

"You may enter." Invited Irving.

A templar with blond hair entered the office and spoke to him directly.

"First Enchanter! The Knight-Commander wants to see you in the reading room of the apprentices." It was Cullen, the templar we met earlier. His recurrence clearly shows that he won't just be a random character generated to fill the blanks, and that he might play a role in the series…

"Really, now? What did he want?" Inquired the magi's leader, crossing his arms.

" 'T-'T-'Tis about…" He seemed to hesitate, as if anticipating the reaction of the Enchanter. His gaze started to roam around room until he met a pair of brown eyes.

"Hello, Cullen!" Greeted the young woman upon seeing the templar.

If our friend was nervous a while ago, now he was speechless for his heart was doing most of the speaking, though no one could hear it. His face took a deep shade of pink and his pupils were now dilated.

"G-G-Good morning, Amell…" He finally blabbered.

"Solonoa." She corrected.

"Y-Y-Y-Yeah…"

At this point, Irving was getting quite impatient. He cleared his throat, bringing back the young man to his senses.

"Oh, yes, sorry! Um, the Knight-Commander wanted to meet you because of…" He paused once again, knowing well what the name he was about to utter would cause as a change of mood to the Enchanter.

"Because of what…?"

"Alim Surana…"

As he expected it, Irving facial expression changed from his composed self to a disgusted frown that would let you think he was not the same person anymore.

"Say no more…"Was the only thing he said before taking his iron staff and heading down the stairs.

Perhaps it's about time we left the circle and its colorful residents… to go meet equally colorful people around Ferelden!

**~Highever – Cousland Domain~**

Among the oldest of the noble families in Ferelden, very few endured the tests of time like the Cousland who were both respected and favored. This family's story goes way before Calenhad, the first king to unite the land under one banner, rose to power.

The Cousland have almost always governed Highever. The current leader was the teyrn Bryce Cousland, who took command of the Ferelden fleet during the Orlesian invasion, and emerged victorious. This was where he met his soon-to-be wife, Eleanor, with who he had two children.

His first born was a son named Fergus, who was seconding his father in every endeavor he had. He was married to an Antivan woman, Oriana, and had a son with her named Oren.

As for their second child…

"Ouch!"

A guard fell to the ground, curved in a ball, holding his crouch area while rolling in pain.

On a nice day like that, the guards had their training sessions in the courtyard. Most of the time, teyrn himself would supervise their exercises. On other days, it would be Fergus. But on that day…

"Hah! Is that a way to hold your sword? And you call yourself a guard?! My dog has a better stance than that!"

A young woman with short raven hair was standing in front of the agonizing guard, belittling him and stepping on his torso with her boot.

This was Elissa Cousland, Bryce and Eleanor's second child, the youngest. She was an insolent, rude and overconfident tomboy who always wore her light leather armor… she was the biggest bully to all the residents of the domain.

The poor man on the ground just experienced one of her infamous 'below the belt' hits, under the pretext that he wasn't a good enough training partner.

The other guards could only witness the scene in silence, unable to jump in to save their comrade without angering their mistress, or getting the same treatment.

Without lifting her foot from her victim, she turned her gaze on the other men.

"Hey, you there! I don't remember telling you to stop! Keep fighting!" She ordered.

"You are not fit to give such orders!" Scolded a voice behind her that, from the relieved looks she saw on the guards' faces, could only belong to one person.

She turned around to face her brother, Fergus, who immediately made a gesture with his head, telling her to lift her foot from where it stood.

He helped the man up, checking if he was alright, and sending him to join his comrades.

"You are way too soft with them, brother. We are Fereldens, and our symbol is the proud mabari, not one of those living lap-pillows the Orlesians carry around.

"Those men are here to defend our walls: treat them fairly and they'll fight to the bitter end for you. Rule over them by fear, and they'll desert you as soon as they can."

Elissa hated it when her elder would question her authority. She crossed her arms, glaring daggers at him before she eventually turned her heels to leave. She had other parts of the domain to visit today, anyways.

"By the way," Fergus called as she was headed to the kitchen "mother wanted to see you. She is in her quarters."

She signaled that she heard him with a simple 'hmph'.

**~Cousland Domain – The Teyrn's Room~**

Eleanor was sitting on a chair close to the room's window, occasionally taking a sip from her cup of tea. She obviously seemed to be expecting a visitor, for she had prepared another cup on the table in front of her.

Indeed, she eventually heard someone knocking on her door.

"You may enter." She said rather firmly, knowing who was behind that door.

Her daughter entered the room, closing the door behind her. She went to stand in front of her mother, slightly apprehensive of what she had to say.

"You have summoned me, mother?" She asked.

"I have, indeed." She gestured her to sit on the chair in front of her, to which she obliged without discussion.

"What seems to be the matter?" Elissa ended up asking. Her mother simply took another sip from her cup, before putting it down on the table.

"It is rather unusual to see you without your companion."

"Er… Hohaku must be taking a stroll, somewhere. I… don't know where he is, now."

"I happen to know. The last time I heard of him, he was in the kitchens, harassing your nan and her assistants."

"Oh! I thought I told him not to go there. I'll go and get him, now." She stood quickly and went for the door, but a voice behind her stopped her in her track.

"There will be no need for that! Ser Gilmore already took care of it."

The young Cousland tried to look above her shoulder, only to see her mother gesturing once again for her to sit down. She had no choice but to oblige, again.

"The mabari is a loyal and clever creature: they will not reproduce a behavior if their master prevents them, but if they encourage them, on the other hand…" She shot an accusing glare at her daughter, letting her know that she knew what was going on. As a response, she lowered her head: as rebellious as she was, Elissa could never dare to cross her parents directly.

"My grandson, Oren, has learned some very nasty words, recently. When we ask him about their meanings, he innocently gives unrelated explanations. One would believe he was told all of this from an adult: an immature one, at that."

*gulp*

Feeling unmasked, the young lady gulped hard: another one of her 'jokes', backfired.

"Maybe I should have him summoned, so he can grace you with his newfound expressions… unless you already learned them."

She dared slightly raising her head, only to meet the terrible glare of Eleanor, who eagerly awaited her answer.

"I… I'm sorry, mother. I confess: I did everything you said, just now."

The teyrna took her cup to sip some more tea. When she put it down again, her expression seemed calmer.

"You are a young Cousland lady, Elissa. To be a noble goes beyond your birth and privileges: you must lead the people, not persecute them."

"I understand, I'll try to be more careful."

"I don't need promises, but actions, young woman. You may leave."

With her head still hanging low, Elissa stood, going straight for the door. As she was about to grab the knob, her mother interrupted her yet again.

"We received a letter from our friends, the arl Howe. It seems his youngest son has hidden an event that occurred to him when they visited us for the last time: an event that you have a hand, or should I say a foot, in. I thought I already forbid you to use your 'indecent' hits."

"But mother, Thomas acted like a creep. He asked for this one! He—" Before she could justify her action any further, she noticed that Eleanor was now looking at her with a slightly amused look on her face.

"I understand. But still, do avoid controversies. We have a long history of friendship with the Howe, and it would be a shame to ruin this."

"I agree, mother." She said out loud _'And Nathaniel is hot…'_ She thought.

She excused herself and left the room.

…

The moral of the story for you, young ladies reading this? Sending a docile dog as a joke to your nanny, that's bad! Teaching your little brother/nephew some nasty words, that bad! Kicking a guy you don't like in his 'treasury'… we can let that one slide.

Did Elissa truly learn her lesson? Those fingers crossed behind her back tell me another story, to be honest.

Let's leave the Cousland to visit yet another part of Ferelden!

**~Denerim – Alienage~**

Denerim was Ferelden's capital, located to the northeast of the country. This place was home to the Royal palace where the current ruler, king Cailan, lived with his wife, Anora. Bann, teyrn and arl all came to this place whenever they had official matters to discuss with the crown.

Like all major cities, we found there the best shops, armories, blacksmiths and even travelling peddlers. The streets were always full of customers, no matter what day of the week we were, people came from all over Ferelden, beyond and even from below it.

But, there also was another less joyous side to the city, like all human cities and towns in Thedas. There was place that held everything the city didn't need/want: junk, poverty, illness… but also the elves.

Those elves that had accepted a life of servitude to the humans so they could live in their cities as second-class citizens, in some infamous parts separated from them by walls. Those areas were called alienages.

Once you've seen one of them, they all look the same; whether you're from Ferelden, Orlais, Antiva, Kirkwall… they all shared common characteristics: they were mostly slums and wooden cabins, occupied exclusively by elves. In the middle of those places, you usually found a giant tree called 'Vhenadahl', or the 'people's tree'. It was mostly there to remind them of their original home, from what they believed, 'Arlathan'.

Some of these elves just roamed around their area, aimlessly, from day to night and from night to day. Others, however, were 'lucky' enough to find work outside their alienage as messengers and servants for human lords and ladies, in exchange of a meager mean of surviving. These work were second only to slavery of these elves to the humans, or the 'shemlens' as they called them.

Among the families found in Denerim's alienage, there was the Tabris, a well respected family among the city elves, who were quite busy as of late because of an event that was to take place, soon enough.

Their son, Darrian, was to be married to a woman from another city's alienage. The whole family was joyously anticipating this event, except for one person: the future groom himself.

The redhead had become very irritable since he learned the news from his cousin, Shianni, and rushed through the alienage like a bolt, bumping into many people on his way, until he arrived in front of his house.

He opened the door and slammed it close.

"FATHER!" He called.

Cyrion Tabris, Darrian's father, came out of the kitchen upon hearing his son, with a big grin on his face.

"Ah! Darrian! You're already home?"

"Don't act friendly now! You know what you did! What's this story about me getting married?!"

In front of his son's indignation, Cyrion could only raise an eyebrow.

"Hm? Didn't I tell you about it, already?"

"No, you didn't! Shianni's the one who's been bragging about it all day in the alienage!"

"Oh, my bad! I really am out of it, as of late… the matchmaker really did a great job with this one."

Darrian slapped his hips with both hands.

"I don't give a fuck about your matchmaker! I got a say in the matter, dammit! I'm not getting married!"

Now, the father was starting to lose patience while facing the accusation of his uncooperative son.

"That's not for you to decide! Besides, what will you do all day? Just live an eternal teenager, between work and friends? I already paid the dowry to the girl's family: it'll be a matter of weeks before you're married to her."

"I do whatever I want of my days! I don't need some overpriced ball and chain that cost you with your left arm to poison my life!"

Now, the brat was becoming insulting, and Cyrion would never allow that under his roof. He pointed a finger at him.

"Omae wa mou… shinderiru." He said in a deep voice.

"What…?"

Before he could understand what happened, a red aura had enveloped his father.

"OoOooh… WAH!" Suddenly, the old Cyrion flexed his muscles so hard that he ripped his shirt. He quickly appeared in front of his son, and…

"AaaaaTATATATATATATATATA—" He rained down upon him a storm of punches so strong and so fast that he wasn't touching the ground anymore.

From behind their house's door, two people were eavesdropping on them.

"Here goes the old Cyrion again…" Said Soris, one of Darrian's cousins "Seriously, with the money his old man paid to the matchmaker, he's sure to have a better bride than I can ever dream of."

"His father went through all this trouble, and that's how he repays him?" Shianni was also there, commenting on the events.

"You can't blame the lad either, he's always been kind of frustrated… sexually perhaps."

…

…

"He better fuck soon." Said Shianni, after a moment.

"Yeah, he better." Agreed Soris, before adding a very unnecessary trivia "Did you know he fantasized about you, back when he was thirteen?"

Shianni suddenly stood straight and gave a disgusted look at her cousin.

Now let us leave this happy family for yet another part of Ferelden!

**~Somewhere in the Brecilian Forest~**

We already touched upon the city elves, who accepted the life of second-class citizens under the human oppression. But what about the other elves, those that we call the Dalish?

These elves refused to submit to the 'shemlen' laws who, they judged, already took too much from them. They split themselves into multiple clans that roamed the lands of Thedas as nomadic people, living in harmony with the forces of nature. Two clans were rarely seen in the same place at the same time, for they avoided such unplanned gatherings. The real links existing between all clans were the Keepers, who played the role of guide for the whole clan.

A gathering of all the Dalish clans did happen, occasionally, during an event called Arlathvhen, every ten years or so, where the Keepers would exchange and discuss their discoveries during the years, and to keep alive the elves' old traditions.

Were all the clans identical from one another? Yes and no. They did share the same structure: a Keeper, who led the clan. His First or we could call him his apprentice, who would take his place one day. A Second, for some clans, though it was rare because they had one thing in common: magic. Although they lived independently from humans, the Chantry still wouldn't allow too many mages to gather in one place, regardless of their race. The templars would usually leave the Dalish alone, not minding the presence of a Keeper and his First, but he would start to threaten them if they kept more than two magic users in their clans.

Hardly willing to give one of their own to the circle of magi, a clan with too many mages would first try to seek another clan that, on the contrary, lacked magic, and gift them their mage to become the First.

As for the other members of the clans, they were mostly hunters, roaming in the wilds and hunting any creature that posed a threat to the clan, or to seek resources for it, all while respecting the natural balance of the wildlife.

What truly made one clan different from another was how they handled their relationship with humans. Some were quite friendly with them, establishing their encampments near their cities and even trading with them. Other clans, however, acted more like bandits and attacked any human on sight, pillaging their corpses. There was also the middle ground, clans that didn't feel too fond of humans, but that wouldn't hunt them down unless they were pushed to that extreme.

The Sabrae clan was one of the latter, preferring not to deal with the 'shemlens', but ready to attack if the need was felt.

This clan was in Ferelden for quite some time, now. They were planning a trip to the Free Marches in a few weeks, however.

On a nice day, the clan's Keeper, Marethari, sent her First, Merrill, to seek some specific herbs. Merrill was quite capable… alright, she was kind of an idiot and clumsy girl and every time she tried to 'socialize', she failed miserably, and would have Marethari drag her back to her books: yup, the life of the First sucked.

In the end, she managed to get all the herbs needed for her Keeper, so she started heading back. On her way, she saw a bush full of berries and couldn't resist the temptation to stop and have a little snack.

She feasted until she was satisfied, but when she turned to resume her walk, she came face to face with a problem… a big problem.

A bear stood some feet away from her, starring in her direction.

As we said earlier, Dalish elves lived in harmony with the beasts residing in the forest. But Merrill being… Merrill, panicked, and the animal felt it. It started getting closer to her while she was stepping back, confused.

As it drew closer to the First, a whistling sound was heard, getting its attention. It turned around to see, coming from behind the tall trees, another elf. She had long and wild silver hair and, judging by her long bow and arrows, she was a huntress.

She silently walked towards the bear, which started growling at her. She kept her pace, undisturbed. It got on its two rear paws, ready to attack.

Once she got to less than a couple of feet away from it, she stared right into its dark eyes, peacefully.

It kept on growling for a moment, before gradually calming down, falling back on its four legs. She extended her hand, without it reacting to her, and started caressing its head. After a moment, the animal turned and headed to the deepest part of the forest, behind the trees, in peace.

"Thank you, Lyna. I don't know what I would've done without you." Merrill thanked.

"You're pathetic!" Scolded the huntress "As the clan's First, you shouldn't need my help to keep peace with the wildlife. Are you really going to become our Keeper, one day?"

The poor Merrill could only lower her head in shame.

Lyna Mahariel was a very talented huntress in the Sabrae clan. However, she was also known to be a 'Dalish supremacist': she could spend hours speaking non-stop about how the Dalish are the only real elves left and that they are worth better than any other race in Thedas.

The First was in for at least three hours worth of propaganda, but another elf joined their party.

"Hey, you two! The Keeper was looking for—' It was Tamlen, another elf of the clan. He was about to speak, but Lyna just cut him.

"Too late, Tamlen, you're late, once again… You are supposed to follow me like a shadow, yet you allow yourself to be late, always late! I swear, even on the day Fen'Harel will come to claim your soul, you'll be late! Dalish elves are supposed to—"

And now, instead of having to endure the propaganda alone, Merrill had company. But, she would have to sit, not through three hours, but through at least six hours.

If Lyna had been born with the gift of magic, and her future had been to lead the Dalish clan, she would've had the whole world under her command: humans, dwarfs and qunaris. But for now, Marethari would have to wait a little longer before she could get her herbs that are totally NOT meant for hallucinating reasons.

Let us leave the Dalish and the surface in general, and let's dive 'below'.

**~Orzammar – Royal Palace~**

There were hardly any people in all of Thedas as intrinsically strict on their cast system as the people of Orzammar: the dwarfs.

Those short and bulky beings lived in vast underground tunnels that went through all of Thedas' length. Orzammar was one of the last dwarven kingdoms and also one of the last inhabitable places down there, for the other thaigs had fallen to the darkspawns' assaults.

We did say earlier that the darkspawns, according to the Chant of Light, were Tevinter mages that had been corrupted by their cupidity. However, if one is more interested in facts, they were vile creatures that made the Deep Roads their homeland, where they are ever in search of a massive soul of an ancient god to corrupt: an Archdemon.

Without an Archdemon to guide them, the darkspawns hardly ever leave the underground for the surface, and gather in disorganized bands that wreck havoc on all living beings, including among themselves. But once they find him, they start to organize and attack the surface. This is when a blight starts.

Besides, darkspawns were also capable of corrupting people's blood, turning them into ghouls that roam the lands aimlessly, only worshipping the Archdemon in a meaningless existence. A song is constantly playing in their heads, from what they say themselves. They end up dying a slow and painful death upon realizing how futile their lives truly are.

The only known way to face the darkspawns and their corruption is through the process of becoming a Grey Warden; an order of elite warriors that we will come to talk in details about later. For now, let us come back to our dwarven kingdom.

The current ruler of the kingdom of Orzammar was Endrin Aeducan, heir to the house of Aeducan, the dwarven hero of the first blight whose bravery raised his house to nobility and himself to the rank of the Paragons, who are considered gods among the dwarves.

Endrin had three children: Trian, his first son and the direct heir to the throne after him. There was Bhelen, his youngest child, who was the closest thing to snake when it came to how he handled his life and manipulated others'. And between the two…

***CLANG**CLANG***

From the soldiers' training room, one could hear the sound of steel weapons clashing.

Once inside, you could see many of the soldiers sitting on the sides, taking a break to witness the battle before them.

Their captain was exchanging blows with a person that didn't seem to be a royal soldier, but who fought skillfully nonetheless: even better than the captain himself, actually. After a few clashes, they took a few steps back, evaluating one another from a distance.

"Not bad, captain. I didn't think it possible, but you improved quite a lot." The challenger praised.

"You honor me, your grace. The stone has blessed you with the power of your ancestor." The captain returned. The way he addressed his opponent made it obvious that he had in front of him the second Aeducan child.

After an extended face down, the captain suddenly released his shield from his arm, taking his long sword with both hands and rushed to the Aeducan, trying for a horizontal slash.

As he finally closed the distance, with a good mastery over his weapon, he did a spinning attack, fully aware of the reach of his weapon: this blow would connect!

"What?!" He exclaimed, as his sword almost escaped his control for a lack of resistance. He missed his hit, and the noble disappeared from his sight.

"You're wide open!" He heard a voice shout behind him, as the cold steel of an axe slowly but firmly rested on his shoulder: the Aeducan had rolled under his attack and overpowered him without trouble.

This action left him and his men speechless, the young noble was definitely a skilled warrior made to lead on the battlefields.

"It's a shame. Our battle could've lasted longer if you didn't attempt such a desperate move so early."

To this, the captain could only let his sword fall to the ground, raising his open hands in a gesture of submission.

Applauses were heard through all the room as the soldiers got up and cheered.

"Long live Lady Aeducan! With someone like her to take command of the armies, the darkspawns can already beg for their lives!"

She raised her fist to the sky, causing them to cheer even harder for her. Then, she made her way to the side of the room, where all the practice apparel was stocked. She took off her helmet, letting her red hair kept in a fereldian braid fall back. She had a scar on her cheek that suggested she was used to play a lot with her weapons.

She was Sereda Aeducan, second child of Endrin, and future commander to the royal dwarven army. Though no in line for the throne, she was very popular with her people, and loved to hang out with the soldiers. If Orzammar was democracy, she wouldn't get any competition from her brothers, if she wished to take the crown… but she didn't desire it, in the first place.

However, she did have a darker side to her that keeps her from being the 'perfect lady commanding Mary-Sue'… (Do people still use that term, by the way?)

"So, are you done beating the soldiers, m'lady?" A voice asked from besides her. She turned her head to see, pressing his back against a wall, her loyal companion Gorim.

" ***tsk**tsk**tsk*** You wound me, Gorim. I'm only having a friendly sparring with the men. What' wrong with that?"

Gorim Saelac was a man of the warrior caste who was lady Aeducan's exclusive bodyguard, and more, for he was guarding her body in many ways… or was it the other way around? Yup, those two were having a forbidden relationship that went beyond the 'should I get your tea ready, lady Aeducan.'

It was a forbidden relationship because, as we said earlier, one did not just mess with Orzammar's strict caste system; unless he wanted to get irreversibly Cousland'ed (you get the picture), and stripped of his cast, in this order of priority.

"Still, we do not want you to go 'bersek' on them. Remember that last time it happened?"

"Err… No…?"

Indeed, this was Aeducan's darkest trait: if she allowed herself to get carried away in battle, things could get ugly quickly. On top of that, she never remembered anything of those moments where she went 'berserk'.

"Anyways, I think you should get some rest: tomorrow, a feast awaits you and you will give your first order. Most noble houses will want to get your favors." They were now both outside the room, walking down the palace's hallways.

"Huh. Let them try! If they want to lick someone's boots, they can try Trian's: I heard he liked that."

And speaking of the devil, they ended up encountering him.

Trian Aeducan, as we said earlier, was the direct heir to the throne of Orzammar, but also the least liked of the Aeducan children. For reasons unknown, he seemed way older than his two siblings, making you wonder why the king waited so long before impregnating his wife with Sereda and then Bhelen. He was also famous for being quite heartless, especially towards the people, bringing the caste discriminations to a whole new level.

"Ah! If it isn't my noble brother!" Mocked the young woman "You illuminate our day with your luminous and noble presence!"

Trian just stared at her with his usual 'better born than thou' expression. Bhelen was just behind him, as usual.

"I see you are done rolling in the mud with the other soldiers." He riposted "If we are lucky, they may teach you how to eat on the ground: that will save a lot of space for the important people in tomorrow's feast."

"You wound me my lord. I think the least talented of these men has killed more darkspawns in a day than you in a lifetime."

"Insolent brat! Mark my words; had father listened to reason, he would've never considered you for commanding my kingdom's troops!"

' _Yes, in other words, you spoke and he shoved you like a spoiled brat…'_ Sereda thought to herself.

"My lord," Now, Gorim was the one addressing the heir "I am sure your sister did not wish to offend you. Please, make no—"

"Who gave you permission to address me directly?! You're only a little warrior, stay out of the businesses that are above you!"

"F-Forgive me, your highness." The warrior had been shamed, but his mistress wouldn't let that slide.

"Gorim only answers to me, 'brother'. He will stay out of my business if **I** tell him to."

The older brother threw a dark glare on his sister.

"Do not believe I ignore what happens behind the scenes, though I lack proofs of your 'entanglements'. You are a disgrace to our people."

"Say that again, sodding old fart!" She took a step forward, ready to start hostilities.

However, Bhelen, who had been silent for a moment, decided to step in and prevent the kin-slaying (how ironic).

"Now, now, brother, sister: we are past the age of futile quarrels."

They kept staring at each other for a moment. Then, Trian called Bhelen and they both left, without further exchange between the two parties.

"I am sorry, m'lady. I ended up causing more trouble for you." Gorim apologized.

"Meh, let him be… he's always been an idiot, to think he was fed lyrium upon birth. He can have his throne and warm it with his butt all he wants."

"That's hardly a fitting language for a woman of your caste."

"Too bad, I never liked that caste system…"

They headed for the kitchens, where Sereda would proceed to replenish he energy stocks after her training and arguing.

Let's leave her to her monstrous appétit and go 'lower' in the caste system of Orzammar.

**~Orzammar – Dust Town~**

As Trian showed it earlier, though to an extreme proportion, the caste defined everything in the life of a dwarf. The moment he is born, he inherits the caste of his father, lives with it, and usually dies with it (though there have been a few known exceptions).

We touched upon the Paragons earlier, but most of them received that title after their death, and the remaining ones were seen as gods among mortals.

So, the citizens with the highest caste, aside from the crown, were the nobles who were the most wealthy and influential people in the kingdom. Below them, many castes existed, one more or less important than the other: the warrior caste, the mining caste, the smith caste… the lowest was considered to be the servant caste, but there was a way to go even lower than that…

Yes, the lowest form of life in Orzammar was that of the 'casteless', dwarves that were recognizable from the tattoos they bore on their faces and that lived in Dust Town, the poorest and dirtiest part of the city. Life there was even worse than in the elven alienage, for no law or tradition kept those miserable from turning to lives of beggars or thiefs: everything just to survive and see another day surrounded by the stone.

The Carta was one of the biggest networks of organized thugs roaming Dust Town's street, and sometimes even the Commons. Their leader was Beraht, a man known to always find a way to erase any evidence of his involvement in the mafia, though everyone knew about him and his ways: he was dangerous and only a fool would try to directly confront him.

Recently, he got a new idea to scam the people in the Commons, and he relied on one of his minions to get the job done.

That minion was a castless dwarf by the name of Faren Brosca, and Beraht gave him some specific orders; he spent a couple of weeks training him for his 'operation', and when he felt that he had taught him enough, he sent him up to the Commons, though he wouldn't be alone.

Faren walked through the streets of Orzammar, passing in front of some shops from where the merchants gave him a funny look, but not only because he was clearly a castless, from his facial tattoo: he was wearing some very expensive looking clothes and, when he did stop by a stand, would buy the most luxurious artifacts.

When he reached the Commons square, right before the Proving grounds, a man with a ponytail, another castless, approached him.

"My good sir, allow me to ask you a question!" He said in a loud voice, as if to draw the attention of the people around them.

"I am listening to you!" Answered Faren, with an even louder voice.

"You are a casteless just like me, but everything about you tells me that you are more successful than the dwarves born in a caste! What could be your secret?"

Now, some people started to gather around them, interested to know what the ruckus was about, for some, or what 'secrets' the casteless could share, for others.

"My secret, friend, is that I didn't allow my birth to dictate what I could or couldn't do! Every day, I woke up before everyone else (translation for the real world: 4 A.M)! I started every single day with a strict and rigorous morning routine! I invested myself in my projects, and took every opportunity life offered me: I invested in myself!"

Quite a crowd had gathered, now, and believe it or not, some were genuinely fascinated by that character that seemed to come out of nowhere to preach this motivational speech. The more the speech progressed, the more he seemed to address the crowd, and not specifically the man who accosted him.

"I am the proof that with hard work, nothing is impossible! The elites want you to think that the caste system defines who you are, but they fear what you can do, if you free yourself from their bind! You can be whoever you want to be: believe in your dreams, and make them a reality!"

Some people started cheering for this atypical man, launching retaliating cries.

"I want you all to succeed just as I did! You can all become entrepreneurs, and start at the right place, for you are not like the mass of sheep that blindly follow the leaders: you can be more than that!"

Before he could go any further with his 'pre-historical social media level' preaching, a man got in the middle of the scene and pointed at him and the guy who first asked him his question.

"Hey! I know you two! You both work for Beraht! They murdered a man for him a few days ago in cold blood!"

"Now that you say it, I did see them in the Commons before, stealing from the honest merchants!" A woman in the crowd added.

Suddenly, the cheering stopped, the encouraging crowd that surrounded them started to seem more like a horde of darkspawns ready to jump on them.

"I think it's time to sound the retreat, Leske." Said the well-dressed dwarf.

"I think so, too."

They found an opening in the mass that surrounded them and made a run for it, quickly chased by some other dwarves.

"Come back here, sodding casteless! You wanted to scam us with one of your boss' ideas, huh?!"

They ran through the Commons' streets all the way back to Dust Town, the merchants that 'sold' Faren his goods quickly following, for they too were part of the Carta. They barely managed to escape the angry commoners and stopped to catch their breath.

" ***pants*** I guess Beraht's plan wasn't such a good idea, since we're well know up there ***pants*** " Complained Faren.

"No shit… ***pants*** but he's still gonna blame us for this one." His friend, Leske, reminded him of Beraht's ways with schemes gone unsuccessful.

"Well ***pants*** , I think I'll just stick to the classical jobs. ***pants*** I don't think I want to lose the pounds that I don't even have."

And so, the duo went back to their boss, to make a report of the situation… and to return the goods and outfit 'lent' to them for this failed scheme.


	2. A Trip To Orzammar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 2! In this chapter, we will join Duncan as he returns to Ferelden, noticing upon his arrival an unusually organized skirmish from his enemies: the darkspawns. Could it mean that what he fears is happening? There is one place to check for an answer to this question...

We touched upon the darkspawns, these foul creatures of chaos that have no other reason to be than to destroy all living beings in the world, and how they started a blight, guided by an Archdemon. However, the world of the living obviously didn’t stand still, waiting to be annihilated by this menace. Indeed, an order of great warriors rose and faced the darkspawns.

Men and women, barbarians and kings, knights and mages… all gathered under the banner of the Grey Wardens! Somehow made immune to their corruption, they were able to fight them and their Archdemon to the death, sacrificing everything for that end, and prevailed, hailed as the heroes that saved the world.

To this time of 9:30, the Grey Wardens fought against four blights, the last one dating back to almost four centuries. Ever since that victory, the times haven’t been very kind to them, for people forgot their achievements, and those who remembered falsely thought the darkspawns were gone for good, thus calling the Wardens an “obsolete order that had no meaning anymore”.

In the case of Ferelden’s Grey Wardens, they found themselves dragged to a conflict with the crown, two centuries ago, during the reign of king Arland Theirin, and were branded traitors, hunted out of the country for many years after. It’s only after king Marric’s rise to power, a good twenty years prior that the Wardens were allowed to Ferelden once again (also because his son was a big fanboy).

Currently, the Warden-Commander of Ferelden was a man named Duncan, recognizable by his black hair held in a small ponytail and his **_legendary_** beard.

He had left Ferelden for a few weeks, having some business to take care of around Orlais. Once he made sure everything was fine there, he set out to return to his country. However, when he entered the western borders of Ferelden, near the Frostback Mountains, he and his men were ambushed by a group of darkspawns.

Thanks to his skills, and those of his companions (even though they’re just NPCs), the group was quickly taken care of. But, he noticed something strange about this skirmish: usually, the rare darkspawns they encountered on the surface were gathered in smaller groups than this one, and they normally were too busy ravaging everything around them to even establish any kind of tactic, let alone an ambush like this one.

Even though vigilance was one of the Grey Wardens’ principles, most would just overlook this encounter, but Duncan was a cautious man, even overcautious as some would say, and since Orzammar wasn’t very far from his location, he decided to pay the underground kingdom a visit, and investigate the Deep Roads, eventually.

**~Orzammar – Proving Halls~**

Once they arrived, they were greeted with all the respect the dwarves from the kingdom could give, for the Wardens were well respected by them since forever. As a matter of fact, the Wardens happened to visit the place on a special day: king Endrin’s daughter was to be named commander of the royal troupes, and both a tournament and a banquet were prepared for the occasion!

The tournament, the Proving was its name, was for the people of Orzammar an event meant to pay respect to the stone and the Paragons, but for a senior Grey Warden like Duncan, it was a chance to scout for new talents, for they were still very few in Ferelden, and new recruits were becoming rare…

As he was sitting on a stone bench inside the hall of the Proving, his comrades gone to visit the place, he took this chance to reminisce on a few things.

_‘I hope this was merely an isolated incident… but I cannot allow myself to take any risks. If things end up being what I fear them to be, we will have to act quickly. However, we too few in Ferelden, and not only am I not in a position to call for our neighbors’ assistance without further proofs, but I must also inform the crown before outside help is allowed without raising suspicions. If only we could increase our numbers even by half a dozen…’_

“Mister Grey Warden?” asked a voice that, at first, Duncan thought to be the Proving master’s.

He raised his head only to see two dwarves looking at him awkwardly. One of them had a tanned skin and black hair held in a ponytail, the other had dirty blond hair that was mostly shaved to a short haircut: he was the one who spoke.

“Stone-met, and blessings on your houses.” Duncan greeted the two dwarves, using the common phrase for that purpose. But, when he expected to be greeted back, he was both surprised and uneasy to see the two young men staring at each other, and then at him.

“I thought it was the regular greeting used here, in Orzammar. Or at least, it was the last time I visited.” he explained.

“Oh, no… I mean, yes, it is! It’s just that the ‘greeting’ the two of us usually get here is ‘be gone, scums’! For we don’t actually have houses…”

It was true that, upon closer inspection, the Warden noticed facial tattoos on the men in front of him, reminding him of the local caste system.

“Ah, I think I understand, now. I apologize; I hardly leave the Diamond Quarter when I come here.”

“Nah, ‘tis fine. We know that everyone respects the Grey Wardens. At least, way more than us, soddin’ casteless.”

“Hum… I understand they do, but personally, I seldom believe one’s worth should be decided by birth. The Grey Wardens, for example, come from all backgrounds, and only have their skills to be judged upon.” Duncan chose his words wisely, for the blond dwarf immediately reacted to them.

“See, Leske? That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” at this point, the dwarf who was, you guessed it, Faren, got into another one of his sales pitch where he mostly presented himself as a capable candidate for the Grey Wardens and how this was an ‘once in a lifetime opportunity’… for Duncan.

The latter could only sit through this unskippable advertisement, since ad block didn’t exist back then, and once he was done, or saw an opening, he excused himself and left for the Proving gallery.

**~Orzammar – Proving Grounds~**

As said earlier, the tournament held on that day was to honor lady Aeducan, the king’s second child who was to take the command of the Orzammar army. Of course, Duncan was invited to witness the battles while occupying the guest of honor’s seat. All participants had now more pressure on them: not only was their honor and that of their ancestors at stake during these matches, but all knew what the ever vigilant eye of the Warden’s presence implied. The winner was almost guaranteed a place among them which was considered a privilege in their society of castes.

True enough, Duncan was eagerly awaiting the beginning of the tournament, ready to scout for all potential new recruits for his ranks. He knew he would need the extra blades, especially if what he feared became a reality.

“You must be the Grey Warden everyone has been talking about.” A young woman’s voice was heard behind him.

He turned, coming face to face with a red-haired lady in armor.

“I am, indeed. And I believe you are king Endrin’s second child, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You aren’t. I am Sereda Aeducan. Stone-met, Warden, you are always a welcomed guest among us.”

“Stone-met, and blessings on your house, lady Aeducan. I was expecting to meet you at the feast, after the tournament.”

“Hah! I would never miss a Proving, especially not one made in my name. Although, joining it wouldn’t bother me, either…”

“Hahahah! I recognize here the spirit of your ancestor. You will be a worthy commandant. And, if I may be so bold as to say it, you would make an even greater Grey Warden.” the last compliment was the one that really had Sereda interested.

“Do you truly believe it?” she asked, incapable of hiding the excitement in her voice.

“I do, in fact. But, I would never do such a thing as conscript you, for your father wouldn’t let you go like this.”

“No, he wouldn’t agree. But maybe I can persuade him.” though she meant what she said, the human seemed to take her statement as a wishful joke.

“Hahah! Then I wish you luck, my lady. The tournament will start shortly, you should take a sit.”

But, instead of sitting down, the dwarf lady headed to the Proving master and addressed him confidently.

“Please make a change in the participants: I will join the battle!” everyone in the nobles’ side of the stand who could hear turned to her with their eyes wide open.

“Y-Y-You wish to join the tournament, lady Aeducan?” asked the Proving master, barely able to utter his words correctly.

“Yes, I would hate to miss on the fun of the Proving. Make the preparations necessary!” the last part was obviously an order, and the master had no room for any more questioning of the noble woman’s intentions.

“A-As you wish it, m’lady!”

Duncan also witnessed the scene. He looked at the young Aeducan, who turned her head towards him, giving a triumphant smile, before leaving for the preparation room in the halls. He remained in his sit and stared at the still empty arena where the battles would take place in a few moments.

_‘The two dwarves I met today…’_ he thought _‘will make perfect kindling if a blight happens… Muhahahahahah!’_

On his face, a crooked smile appeared.

His quest for new ‘recruits’ had only begun…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for Chapter 2! I hope you liked it, though it was shorter than the first. Please, do tell me if you prefer me posting longer or shorter chapters. With that said, I hope you have a nice day, or evening, and I'll be seeing you next time!


	3. Not One Of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The royal family of Orzammar ventures into the Deep Roads, in a "Noble Expedition", and Sereda is part of the voyage. She has been tasked with the search of a heirloom from her ancestor, Aeducan. However, she will soon realize that things are not going the way they should, and that the gilded sheath of pity sometimes covers the dagger of envy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I do not own Dragon Age, The Lion King or anything in between (You'll see why I encluded that one here...)
> 
> Enjoy your read!

**~Orzammar – Beraht’s Cells~**

Our friend, Faren, had just woken up in what looked like a dirty prison cell. He had a lot of troubles getting up, his head feeling like a war hammer. He was dressed in rags, and his weapons were nowhere to be seen. But most importantly, he had the worst headache he’d ever felt in his entire life.

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.” It was Ralof… Er, I mean, Leske’s voice. He turned to see that he was also in a cell, on his right.

“Leske? What the soddin’ hell happened?”

“Seems you were hit harder than I expected… We went on a mission for Beraht, remember? We had to drug his protégée’s opponents, but the soddn’ fool already drank his ass to the Stone. So, you took his armor and…”

“I remember! You drugged all the other contestants, just in case, and the Proving was piece of cake. But then, that Aeducan bitch had to join unannounced and defeated me…”

“Defeated you? She wiped the Stone with your ass! I swear, after you fell unconscious, she kept hitting you around like a ragdoll. ‘Twould’ve been funny if it wasn’t business.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep talkin’… Then, what happened, exactly?”

“Ah… The fool, Everd, came into the arena, half-naked and still drunk, and the guards took off your helmet while you were on the ground.”

“Ah, fuck…” He took a better look at his surroundings and noticed something odd. “I don’t remember bein’ thrown in a jail like that before…”

“Simple: ‘tis no ordinary jail. That’s Beraht’s place. He was there, at the Proving, and pulled some strings to have us in his cells. The mob he left here told me he was busy cleaning behind us, so no one associates him with that mess, but when he’s back…”

“He, or Jarvia, will turn us into darkspawn fodder.”

“Yup.”

Let’s leave our friends here, for now, and go meet the expedition to the Deep Roads.

**~Orzammar – Deep Roads~**

Today was _the_ day for Sereda. Along with her family and her ***cough*** bodyguard ***cough*** , she was to go on an expedition to retrieve an ancient artifact related to her family’s history: her ancestor Aeducan’s Shield!

Once they were done with the preparations, they were split into teams which, if you regularly watch thrillers and horror movies in general… is a PeRfEcTlY rAtIoNaL thing to do.

Before leaving, she couldn’t help but throw quick glances at her elder brother, who was to leave with his personal guards, still remembering what Bhelen told her.

Indeed, during the feast that took place the previous evening, her younger sibling asked to speak with her in private and ‘warned’ her about Trian, telling her that he was planning to have her eliminated one way or another. However, she chose not to give it more thought, saying that ‘if he wished for her head, he’d have to claim it by the axe. But that she wouldn’t give the first strike.’

Gorim brought her out of her reveries (for a change), and advised to move quickly. And so, they both ventured into the thaigs of the Deep Roads.

Their progression was rather slow, not so much because of the darkspawns that seemed to be less numerous that usual, but more because of the traps that were set almost everywhere. They were also attacked by spiders of all sizes, but it was nothing unmanageable for them.

Along the road, they encountered a man from the warrior caste named Frandlin, who fought against Sereda during the Proving the previous day, and got humiliated, as you may have guessed it. He offered them his help and they accepted it. Later on, a scout that is so unimportant story-wise that he wasn’t even given a name, also joined them… well, at least he could detect and disable most traps, which was something remotely appreciated.

They headed for the thaig where the tomb was located, but…

“What happened here…?” Wondered Gorim aloud.

The door to the thaig, which was always closed, was now open. The only people able to open the door were the one from the royal family, since they had a special seal for that effect.

“I don’t know. The only thing that I’m sure of is that the intruder, or intruders, had one of our rings… and trust me, they aren’t sold in the Diamond Quarter market.”

The entered the thaig anyways, and proceeded to the next area. They crossed a bridge and finally found the intruders, waiting for them.

“Ah! There you are. I thought that the darkspawns had eaten you.” Mercenaries… armed to the teeth, numerous, holding many key positions for an ambush.

“How did you get here?!” Sereda demanded an answer from them, her hand on the handle of her axe. The only answer she got was smirk from the thugs’ captain. She recalled the words of Bhelen once again, and linked her current situation to the warning she got “ ‘Twas my brother that sent you, right?!”

“Well, well… you see that, boys? They know at least know who’s stabbing them from the back! Too bad it won’t change a thing.” They laughed at their chief’s sarcasm, more of them coming out of their hiding spots.

“Who are you, anyways?”

“Your better, that is who I am.” He was obviously wouldn’t give too much information.

They clearly outnumbered them, and while looking around the area, the young woman noticed some ballista taken over by the mobs: her whole group was exposed to an unwinnable battle if they engaged the bandits head on.

“Now tell me, where is Aeducan’s Shield? Tell us, and I’ll make sure my men don’t mutilate your body beyond the recognition of your dear father.” He was also aware of the shield, which made the betrayal even more obvious.

She needed to find a way to avoid the confrontation, or at least, come up with a strategy that would allow her to take the advantage without sacrificing her comrades… and she needed to be quick about it!

“Err… Don’t you understand? The shield never truly existed!” She tried.

“Eh?! What?!”

“It… It has always been a metaphor! The shield of Aeducan exists within every dwarf, no matter what caste they hail from. It protected us from the darkspawns and their corruption since forever!”

…

…

…

At that moment, Gorim felt embarrassed for his lady: she had just invented the worst story he had ever heard in his whole life! However, he was ready to unsheathe his blade. If they acted quickly, they could make a run for the ballista without sustaining serious damage, dispose of the mobs there and then handle the group carefully.

“Er… Boss? I think the lady’s right. I kinda feel that protective energy stuff…” Great, now one of the mobs was mocking her. However, he didn’t seem to explode in laughter this time.

“Me too, boss. I also feel the same.” A second one was sharing his change of heart.

Then a third.

Then a fourth, and a fifth… in the end, all the thugs’ thoughts converged into one belief, their chief looking at them in disbelief.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, guys?! Can’t you see that she’s bullshitting us?! She’s… she’s… wait.”

They got a sign from their captain and all gathered around him. They consulted each other and, at the end, sheathed their weapons and peacefully walked towards the noble lady. The mercenaries’ chief took Sereda hand with both of his and addressed her.

“Lady Aeducan, we thank you! We finally understand the meaning of Paragon Aeducan’s Shield! Behind us is a life of criminality and murders, we are ready to redeem ourselves by spreading the wisdom of the Shield, that you so kindly shared with us on that day blessed by the Stone.”

“Er… no problem?”

And so, the ex-thugs left the thaig, for a pious life ahead of them.

…

“I can’t believe they bought that story…” Said Gorim.

“Well, I’m satisfied regardless.”

After that, they headed for the chamber where they were to get the artifact. They ended up finding it inside the sarcophagus, after a stupid puzzle. With the shield in their possession, they headed back for the rendezvous point where they were to meet the other members of the expedition, hoping to hear some confessions from Trian after exposing him and his scheming.

Once there, however, they were welcomed by a terrific scene. Dozens of corpses were on the ground, covered in blood: they were Trian’s men! And beyond this mess, Trian’s body was also lying, lifeless. Sereda slowly approached her brother’s remains, speechless. She crouched, trying to feel his breath, but it was all in vain.

“No… this isn’t what I wanted…”

Suddenly, she heard voices coming from another tunnel, getting closer to their location.

“We must haste our steps, father! We may be too late!” It was Bhelen’s voice, and he was with the king along with other nobles and warriors. They arrived and found the bloodbath in front of them.

“Trian… My son…” King Endrin looked devastated. He walked to his heir’s body, with an expression of terror on his face. He kneeled and took his wrist, but felt nothing. He raised his head to face his daughter “Tell this isn’t true! Tell me you didn’t do such a thing!”

“What?! Father, I would never—”

Before Sereda could finish her sentence, a noble interrupted her and addressed the two men she met in the thaigs.

“What exactly happened here?” He demanded. The scout was the first to answer.

“Lady Aeducan ordered us to kill her brother and his men.” He said, getting a surprised look from both Sereda and Gorim.

“That bastard! He’s lying!” Protested the loyal bodyguard.

Harrowmont, who was part of the expedition and who accompanied the king also came forward, trying to ease the situation for the young lady.

“It is true that we cannot just trust the words of one scout. We should wait for further proofs.” But he was also cut by Frandlin, who decided to tell his version of the story.

“Your highness, we arrived here and found Prince Trian along with his men. As soon as he saw us, he dropped his guard and waited for your arrival. That is when our lady ordered us to attack, saying that it was a ‘perfect opportunity’.” … and so, he ended up joining the testimony of the scout, much to Sereda’s dismay.

The king immediately ordered his men to seize his daughter, taking her to the jails of Orzammar. She didn’t resist her arrest. She saw as she passed by, the shocked look some nobles were giving her, and the disgusted ones most others were throwing. But the one face she would remember from that day was that of her brother, Bhelen, who neither looked surprised nor upset by the turn of events: he had a content expression, as if everything had gone accordingly for him.

She realized it all too late: the warnings, the mercenaries, the opened thaig door, the death of her brother… it was all his doing!

**~Orzammar – Beraht’s Cells~**

“Hey you guuuuys! Guess who’s back for you?” A guard entered the prison and started hitting the bars with the handle of his dagger.

Faren, who managed to fall asleep, was quickly woken up by the irritating sounds, and didn’t fail to make it known.

“Y’know what I want do this morning? Take your head and BANG it on these bars! … Repeatedly.”

“Oh? When I said ‘guess who’s back for you’, I wasn’t talking about myself: Beraht’s hooooome! And he’s still very mad at you, punks!” The goon kept on hitting Faren’s cell’s bars left and right with his blade “Now, punk, do you have any last words you wanna tell me before you get torn into pieces?”

“Yeah, actually I have something to tell you…” the casteless dwarf lowered his voice and got closer to the mob “It’s something regarding Beraht, and you got to know it if you don’t want to end up like us…”

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t want him to catch us. Get closer…”

And the idiot _actually_ got closer and you guessed it once again, Faren didn’t miss his chance: he took him by his neck and banged his head against the steel bars. The fool fell to the ground, blood spilling from his wound on the floor.

“He fell for the oldest trick in the book! I can’t believe it!” Leske was rather amused by the stupidity of their captor, but there was still a problem “He fell a little far from you. Do you think you can somehow reach his keys?”

To his surprise, his friend didn’t even try to extend his hand. He simply opened the door of his cell, as if it wasn’t even locked in the first place.

“Wait! Don’t tell me you picked the lock!”

“I actually did, yesterday before going to sleep.” He answered as if it was the most logical thing to do. He ripped the keys apart from the dead guard’s belt and proceed to free his friend who was still staring at him in awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on your mind?”

“There are WAY too many things on my mind! But now’s not the time. Our gears are in that chest, over there.”

They unlocked the container and took back their belongings, leaving behind them their rags. They couldn’t find their weapons however, and what little money they had before their arrest was nowhere to be found.

“How come I’m not surprised…? Anyway, we should get out of here!” Suggested Leske.

“The only way you’re getting out of here is as chunks of meat for the darkspawn!” They turned to see, at the door, the furious face of their ex-employer.

“Oh, eh… boss! We were JUST about to go and greet you… we did well at the Proving, right…?” All of a sudden, our duo wasn’t so confident about getting out of the Carta’s lair so easily.

Without a word, Beraht drew closer and closer to his prisoners, his axe in his hand, raised above his head. Faren and Leske hugged each other in fear, powerless to defend themselves.

However, when Beraht entered the room, he completely ignored the corpse lying on the ground and blood spreading on the floor. And so, he slipped on the red liquid, fell to the ground and lost his axe. He hit his neck on the stone floor, losing consciousness.

“Is he… dead?” asked Faren.

The axe that their boss had lost flew to the ceiling and planted itself on its owner’s head.

“… Now? He is for sure.” Answered Leske.

This was how ended the life of Beraht, the head of the Carta. He tried to finish of his own minions, and ended up slipping and killing himself with his own weapon. A miserable death for the man who had Orzammar at his palm… and trust me when I tell you this will not be the only anti-climatic death in this story.

They took his axe and made a run for the door.

“He’s dead!” Celebrated Faren.

“He’s finally dead!” Agreed Leske.

“You know what that means?”

“We’re finally free!”

“No, you fool! We can claim to have defeated him in a duel, and take control over the Carta! You have to think big!”

“What?! A duel of two on one?”

“I’ll say I defeated him, I’ll take the lead, and I’ll name you my… er, prime minister!”

“Why can’t I be the leader and you the prime minister?!”

“Because I thought of it first!”

“Not fair!”

After running through multiple corridors, they reached the exit of the shop. The ‘future leader’ grabbed the knob, opening the door.

In the end, none of them would become the leader, not even a prime minister… Circling the entrance to the shop, a dozen of guards were waiting for them, along with the Proving master. The latter stepped forward, ready to give them his verdict.

“You, casteless scum, should know that justice will always prevail! I’ll make sure you get your right arms cut for sullying the warrior caste! Your left arms cut for sullying the Proving and Paragons’ spirit! And put to death if you dare survive all of that!”

As the guards were unsheathed their weapons and started their approach to seize the damned, a human emerged from this crowd, putting himself between the authorities and the casteless dwarves. It was Duncan, the Grey Warden they met the previous day! And he wasn’t alone, for Rica, Faren’s sister, was also with him.

“Hold on! This dwarf,” He pointed at Faren “managed to hold his own during the Proving. I want him to join the Grey Wardens!”

“What?!” This statement caused the master to redden with anger “You would make him this honor?! He’s a casteless!”

“He is skilled fighter; that is all that matters to me.” And before the noble could utter another protest, he continued “If you wish to object any further, I will invoke the Right of Conscription!”

There were no more protests, and Duncan turned to the casteless who immediately asked him about the meaning of what he said.

“Am I… to become a Grey Warden?”

“Yes… unless you prefer to meet your end at the hand of the authorities, here.”

“Then I guess I’ll pick life!”

“Hahah! A wise choice!”

Rica approached her brother, hesitantly.

“So, you are leaving?”

“It seems so… Sorry to leave you with mother like that: she’s far worse than Beraht ever was. Do you think you’ll be alright?”

“I think so, actually. I met a noble… and he seemed interested in me! Things are getting serious!”

“Ah… er, good for you, I guess.”

Faren then turned to his friend, to bid him farewell too.

“Well, looks like you’ll be the leader after all! Sorry about my sister, but she’s already found someone on her own.”

“Yeah, I know. Soddin’ hell! You get to play the hero, your sister’s getting with a superior caste man and I am left behind, to return to Dust.”

“Don’t say that! I’m sure you’ll meet someone, eventually. Not too ugly, not too dumb… that won’t have much of a choice…”

“Shut up! Just… go.”

And with those poignant farewells, Duncan took his new recruit and…

“Wait, aren’t we supposed to leave the city?” Asked the confused newbie.

“Not yet: we have comrades to join in the Deep Roads.”

… ventured into the Deep Roads, home to the darkspawns and many other horrors.

A new exciting life was awaiting Faren, for sure…

**~Orzammar – Guard’s cell~**

Sereda was in prison, awaiting the verdict of the assembly. It all happened so fast: the expedition, her brother’s ring between the mercenaries’ hands, Trian’s dead body, the betrayal of Bhelen, her father’s health…

She overheard some guards speaking about the king showing signs of weakness upon returning from the Deep Roads, whether it was just the shock of his son’s death or his daughter’s arrest, or even both, wasn’t clear.

Then, there was Bhelen. That sneaky Bhelen that she didn’t even start to suspect ended up pulling the biggest backstab she’s ever experienced. He had been walking on Trian’s shadow for years, and all this time he had been planning a master plan to get rid of him. But he thought big, and also wanted to eliminate her, so he would end up as the only candidate for Orzammar’s throne. Not only did he succeed on taking them down, but he did it in a single clean strike!

And now, she was framed for the murder of her own brother. The people that, a day prior, looked at her with admiration now stared at her with disdain and disgust.

She heard the door to the jails open and, expecting guards or some nobles to come in, she got up; ready to face whatever sentence they had for her. But it wasn’t exactly what happened.

“Gorim?!”

Yes, her faithful companion (I’m not going to ruin this moment with my lame jokes. Wait, I just did? Too bad…) had come to see her. Indeed, faithfulness was something she yearned for in times like this. He placed a finger in front of his mouth, gesturing her to remain silent. Then, he got closer and started speaking in whispers.

“Sorry for not coming earlier, but I had to make sure I understood everything that happened at the assembly.”

“Never mind that. Tell me: what did they say, exactly?”

He remained silent for a moment, avoiding her gaze. He then moved his head closer to the bars.

“I’m not going to lie to you: things look grim. Your brother had most of the highest authorities in his pocket. He had your name erased from the Stone by the shapers. At first, he wanted to have you executed right away, but Harrowmont stood against him. Instead, you’ll be left in the Deep Roads to fight against the darkspawns.”

“… Until I collapse from the fatigue and get killed, right?”

“Not necessarily! You see, Harrowmont had a talk with the Grey Warden staying here with anyone noticing, and agreed to meet you in there.”

“You mean that… He’s going to recruit me into their ranks?”

“That’s our only hope to get you out of here alive. Your father is really sick, and with him in that state and with you and your late brother out of the way, Orzammar is as good as in Bhelen’s hands: it isn’t a place where you can hope to survive in.”

“What about you, Gorim? Aren’t you coming?”

“No, m’lady: the assembly decided that I had a role in this affair as your accomplice. I will be stripped of my title and caste, and erased from my family’s records. I’ll be sent to the surface.”

“We don’t have to be separated: you could come with us and be a Grey Warden, too. Please!”

“M’lady… I’ve been the happiest, serving under your commands. But, if I also escape my judgment, I will bring more troubles upon you. This is not something I want to risk.”

After one last farewell, Gorim turned to leave. Sereda went to sleep in a corner of her cell, not to cry, but to immortalize that day and to swear that the time would come when she would settle the score with the man she once considered her brother.

**~Orzammar – The Deep Roads~**

As she expected, she was escorted out of her cell by some guards the next day, taken to the Deep Roads.

On their way, they passed by the Commons, where most merchants and citizens stopped whatever activity they may have had to stare at her, throwing heinous looks at her. Some spitted on the ground when she met their eyes, she heard them calling her many names, ‘murderer’ and ‘traitor’ were among them, but the worst was ‘kinslayer’.

They stopped at the entrance of the thaig and Harrowmont, who was part of that cortege, asked the guards to wait at a certain distance so he could speak with the ‘culprit’ alone.

“I believe your bodyguard visited you, yesterday?”

“Yes, lord Harrowmont.”

“Good. All you have to do is survive long enough and meet the Grey Wardens: they will take you with them, far away from your brother’s grasp.”

She nodded. He remained silent for a moment.

“Your father’s health isn’t improving. Though he was shocked by the events, I do not believe his state would get this bad without ‘someone’ contributing to it: I heavily suspect your brother of trying to hasten his ascension to the throne. But, I must ask this question of you, one last time, for your father’s sake: did you truly kill Trian?”

Sereda face the noble without hesitation, though shaken by the news of her father’s condition being also part of Bhelen’s scheme.

“I had my differences with Trian, but he was my brother. I am no kinslayer!”

Harrowmont seemed satisfied with this answer. He gave his last respects to the fallen lady and promised that he would make everything within his power to prevent Bhelen from gaining easy access to the throne.

…

…

Survive and find the Grey Wardens. It was easier said than done, for her. She was given some kind of sword and nothing more, not even a wooden shield. She did run into the body of a dead warrior and… took his armor, which happened to be _just_ her size. Then again, it’s an RPG we’re talking about, here.

She fought here way against a few spiders, but hardly any darkspawns. Though she would admit herself to be more brawns than brains, she couldn’t help but put one and one together; the Grey Warden visiting Orzammar and the Deep Roads, and the latter being strangely barren of her people’s lifelong enemies made her fear that what she theorized at first was true: the world was about to know another Blight.

Her roaming of the thaigs was pretty much uneventful and long, and she was starting to feel both tired and hungry.

Thankfully, her suffering came to an end, for she finally caught up with the Wardens. They had established a camp and seemed to be waiting for someone which would be the case if what Gorim and Harrowmont told her was true.

Duncan was the first to see her and immediately came to meet her.

“Lady Aeducan! I am glad to see you well.”

“Thank you, Duncan. However, I do not believe I am to be called ‘lady’ or any other honorific again…”

“… I am sorry for what happened to your brother.”

 _‘So am I.’_ she wanted to answer, but instead she just nodded her head.

They joined the camp and sat around a fire. She was given a light, but warm, meal and she quickly dug in it.

Among the Wardens accompanying Duncan, she saw another dwarf who didn’t seem to belong in the group, for he didn’t wear their signature armor. But, he had something familiar, though she couldn’t tell where she saw him before…

“Did you join recently?” She asked him.

He almost dropped his bowl upon hearing her speak. For some reasons, he just froze when he realized she was speaking to him, making her wonder if he truly knew her from somewhere. That seemed unlikely, for he bore the facial tattoos of the casteless.

“Y-Y-Yeah…” He simply stuttered, making it obvious that he didn’t wish to speak with her any further. She just shrugged it off and finished her soup… It was Faren, by the way. I thought I would precise that in case some people here are slow to notice.

…

The road back was barely felt; Duncan stated that he more or less had the answer he was looking for. They returned to the Commons, and from there, headed for the great gate of the city, ready to leave. While walking through the Hall of the Heroes, they noticed that a crowd of dwarves had gathered behind them and was following them through the hall.

After a moment, the crowd started… singing?

_Deception!_

_Disgrace!_

_Evil as plain as the scars on their faces!_

Well, Sereda did have a few scars here and there, but Faren only had a tattoo.

_Deception! (An outrage!)_

_Disgrace! (For shame!)_

_He asked for troubles the moment he came!_

“That one’s for me, I guess…” Faren mumbled.

_Deception! (An outrage!)_

_Disgrace! (For shame!)_

_Evil as plain as the scares on their faces! (You know these casteless types!)_

_Deception! (An outrage!)_

_Disgrace! (For shame!)_

_He asked for troubles the moment he came! (See you later, agitators!)_

_Born in grief!_

_Raised in hate!_

_Helpless to defy his fate!_

“Me again…”

_Let them run!_

_Let them live!_

_But do not forget what we cannot forgive!_

_And she in no longer from us!_

“And this one’s for me…” Sereda lamented.

_And he has never been one of us!_

_They are not part of us!_

_Not our kind!_

_Someone once lied to us!_

_Now we’re not so blind!_

“Hum… Perhaps they are talking about me…” Duncan said, only to comfort his little friends.

_For we knew they would do what they’ve done!_

_And we know that they’ll never be of us!_

_He is not one of us!_

“Aaaaaand! It has to end with me again.”

_Deception…_

_Disgrace…_

_Deception…_

_Disgrace…_

_Deception…_

…

…

Well, that certainly wasn’t the most glorious exit in Orzammar’s history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we are FINALLY done with the Orzammar origin stories. Not that I dislike these origins, but Orzammar's really not my favorite section of DA:O (especially the Deep Roads). By the way, did you like that little Lion King 2 moment at the end? I sure hope so, for it may not be the last time this happens here.
> 
> If you have any suggestions to make, know that I'm always *cough*open*cough* to hear them. Aside from that, have a nice day, or evening!
> 
> Peace!


	4. Harrowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When night falls on the Circle of Magi, some apprentices are taken, without a warning, to pass a trial by fire, the test that determines whether they live as full-fledged mages of the tower... or disappear. This is it: the Harrowing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to leave Duncan and his freshly acquired lackeys aside for this one, and pay our friend Surana a little visit.

When night comes, even the circle of Ferelden falls into a quiet sleep, as calm as death itself. The night team of the templars was patrolling around the tower while the other team was catching some sleep, making sure that nothing would disturb the quiet of the night; especially not a mischievous apprentice trying to run away from the Chantry’s grasp.

Their vigilance had never failed in centuries of the circle’s existence, and no mage has ever left the tower without their consent. Ever… Well, except perhaps that _one_ time with that _one_ mage a couple of years ago. But, hey: things like that happen, right? Besides, they were never able to track him down since he was smart enough not to leave without taking his ‘precautions’ to make sure they would never find him. Surana will tell you the story (since he almost ran with him), one day… Eventually.

Speaking of that devil! First let me tell you that he’s fine. I mean, last time we talked about him, he fell from a chandelier and created a crater on the ground: they had to get him out using a rope. After that, he got a good thrashing. Not from the Knight-Commander as most would believe, but from the First Enchanter who, for some reasons, really didn’t like him.

Well right now, he was the only apprentice not asleep: not because he was up to no good or something like that. In fact, he was awakened by the First Enchanter. He awoke him _calmly_ , and dragged him to the third floor that was usually off limit to the circle’s mages and they both entered a circle room where an ambient blue light was reflecting on the windows.

“There you are!” Greagoir exclaimed as he saw his colleague and the apprentice enter. Before he could speak about anything related to the matter at hand, he noticed something on the young elf’s face “Why is your nose bleeding?”

Alim nervously looked to his side, and was met with the menacing glare of his teacher. He lowered his gaze and mumbled pathetically

“I… fell on the stairs.”

Obviously, Greagoir was not buying it. He threw at the Irving a look meaning to tell him _‘Are you serious?’_

They took the young apprentice to the center of the room where stood a pedestal on which was lying a basin of sort. From there, he noticed that a few templars were also in the room, standing at the sides. Among these them, he recognized his friend, Cullen, who was awkwardly nodded at him. From the basin emanated the blue light that filled the room: it was containing a liquid of the same crystal color.

They stood there in an awkward silence, Irving doing his best to look away from his student.

“First Enchanter, I believe you must tell the apprentice what awaits him.” Called the templar.

Still taking his time, Irving slowly turned to look down on Surana. He kept staring at him for a few seconds, giving him the most hateful look he could.

“May a fade demon posses you, and a templar’s blade be your bane!” Everyone in the room was taken aback by this sudden curse from the normally supportive First Enchanter.

“Irving!” Called Greagoir once again “You are supposed to encourage your apprentices, not scare them!”

He didn’t seem to care about the remark and just turned his back on them. However, Surana didn’t seem too hurt by his words, for he just looked randomly around the room, a little lost in his thoughts and occasionally wiping his bleeding nose.

“Look, young man.” Greagoir walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder “It’s only a little test: you’ll take some lyrium—”

“Hah! As if you didn’t know any better! ‘ _Some lyrium’_ won’t be enough for the likes of him, or his friend, over there!” For some reasons, Irving was now throwing his murderous glare at Cullen, who couldn’t help but step back until he hit the wall behind him.

“… As I was saying, your spirit will go into the Fade, resist anything that tempts you and come back here.”

“Humph! I’m more concerned about the poor demons that will have to face HIM!” Once again, Greagoir stared at his colleague who was acting out of character, making him bear the role of the good cop.

Regardless, the silver-haired elf took a step forward and, looking inside the goblet, extended his hand to touch its content. As soon as his finger entered in contact with it, his whole hand started glowing with the same blue aura and he could feel his mind drift away, as if pulled by an invisible hand or string. He felt light; as light as a feather…

**~The Fade~**

When Surana regained his consciousness, he was in a place that was not unfamiliar to him. In fact, this place has been his playground for a few years now: the Fade!

This eerie, confused and chaotic world of green foggy skies, the many paths decorated with objects completely out of their places, the dunes and the mountains spread randomly all around his field of view. Wisps and spirits moving around from everywhere, coming in all shapes and sizes, meeting, crossing and flying away: this was home for him!

To better grasp the way Surana will walk around the Fade, just picture Tobey Meguire’s ‘bad boy moment’ in Spider-Man 3. Even if you never saw the movie, there are plenty of videos and memes around it on the Internet.

And so, Surana chose a path and got moving, or more accurately, dacing cockily while greeting the many creatures of the Fade.

“Hey, Curiosity, how are you doing? Compassion! It’s been a long time! Are you still at it, Valor?”

And he was, in turn, well know among the spirits and even the demons roaming in these parts of the Fade, for they were frequenting places where emotions were displayed and were ever in search of a mage to posses: the circle was a perfect place to wait for such an opportunity.

But Surana, for a reason that will be given to you later on in this chapter, is not a target they can control, for he was used to coming in and out of this realm. He encountered a Sloth demon who, not wishing to fight him, just told him.

“ ***yawn*** Look, kid: I don’t even know why they made you take the Harrowing when you know more about the Fade than they would ever wish to grasp, in what remains of their lifetime. Just ***yawn*** … leave this place.”

Soon enough, the effects of the lyrium wore off and our elf friend was back in the Harrowing room.

**~Out of the Fade~**

“Maybe he is being possessed as we speak: why don’t we kill him, for good measures?”

“Irving! This is not for you to decide!”

Upon recovering consciousness in the real world, the first thing he heard was yet another argument between the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander. He also felt the cold hit his back, as he was lying on the ground. He opened his eyes and saw his friend, Cullen, a sword in his hand, looking down on him.

“He’s awake! And I don’t feel anything strange within him!” Cried the young templar, drawing the attention of the two seniors.

“What?! Already?!” Greagoir couldn’t believe what he heard. He leaned forward, pushing aside Cullen, and taken a closer look at the apprentice.

He used his abilities and couldn’t sense a demon or any other form of spirit, which meant that he did succeed in the Harrowing.

“Well, what did you expect: with all the lyrium he’s been taking on the side…” Irving muttered under his beard.

“Irving, I already told you: you can’t just throw accusation without any proofs. Besides, we, templars, are the ones getting the lyrium, which would mean that someone is an accomplice.”

Both seniors threw their accusing gazes at the young templar who, once again, took a few steps back.

Usually, the mage who went through his Harrowing is subject to extreme fatigue and remains that way for a few days, or even weeks for the most fragile. But Surana was perfectly fine and immediately stood on his feet, not even showing enthusiasm for his own success.

Cullen was tasked with escorting the boy back to his quarters, and the two were able to discuss the events of the evening.

“Congratulations on your Harrowing! It was, by far, the cleanest and fastest I’ve seen.” They were walking down the second floor’s empty hallways.

“Well, thanks. I just hoped they would’ve used a little more lyrium: it was barely enough to lift me up…”

“Oh! Guess what?” Cullen leaned to the side whispering to his mage friend’s ear “I managed to… ‘borrow’ some of the lyrium meant for your Harrowing. And with what I’ve been saving until now, we will be celebrating your graduation, tomorrow.”

Surana stopped walking, realizing what his friend was talking about. With wide eyes and a smile drawing itself on his face, he lifted his head towards the templar.

“Ooooooooooooh…” He uttered in a knowing voice.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah…” His friend simply answered.

It is well known in the DA lore that lyrium, especially in its raw form, can cause a lot of damage to humans and elves, and outright kill any mage that touches it. But, our friend Surana found a few ways and techniques (that he stole from Irving, by the way) to ‘bypass’ that restriction and convert it into a substance that can be smoked with a pipe. He and his templar friend, Cullen, have been stealing in the circle’s stocks every now and then for years, and when the amount would be sufficient, they would hide somewhere in the tower and enjoy themselves.

The little rascals!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: don't try to mimic this in real life, kids. Don't do drugs with your templar friend... This is bad! (Just like swooping)


End file.
